Romance Author Showcase- Francisco Cordoba. The First Chapter

I’m excited today.  Francisco Cordoba has announced his new series.  Those of us who have read the series are bursting at the seams with glee.   Check out The Naked Reviewerson Wed for a review!!

After two and a half years The Image may contain: one or more people, cloud, sky, text and outdoorHorsemen of Golegã was unleashed on the world Sept 1, 2017 with Book 1 in the 8 book series, Bosanquet.
What do you do when your BFF’s dream vacation turns out to be your worst nightmare?

After a naïve relationship decision leaves Candice with a handprint on her face and no job, all she wants is to hide in a corner and lick her wounds. But when bestie Fiona comes begging for a last minute travel companion, what else can a true friend do but go along for the ride?

Fast forward to the bustling streets of Golegã during Portugal’s International Horse Fair. Where stunning horses and cocky macho men are every woman’s wet dream. Every woman except for Candice, that is. Horses are her least favorite animal and, right now, men rank a close second.

Determined to steer clear of arrogant males; pursued by a series of psychotic text messages, a crazed cavaleiro, and a vicious black stallion, Candice once again questions her judgment.
The only thing keeping her sane is curiosity over the fascinating stranger who seems as drawn to her as she is to him. Tall, ruggedly handsome, and enigmatic, Gaspar Bosanquet is a man like no other.

Will a night in his arms change Candice’s mind about men?
Or will one impulsive act become her biggest blunder yet?
Only one thing is certain, neither Candice nor Bosanquet will ever be the same again.

Join them on their journey!
Welcome to Francisco Cordoba’s debut novella.
Available on Amazon

Explicit sex (tasteful), and some swearing.


And now to The First Chapter.
Grab your seat for a wonderful ride.
Chapter 1
Image may contain: one or more people, cloud, sky, text and outdoor“You are so going to pay for this,” Candice said, propped against her friend and using the edge of the curb to scrape fresh, sweetly pungent manure off her discolored sandal.
“I already paid for it,” Fiona replied with a smile.
Candice’s efforts were futile. The muck was a magnet for the sand and sawdust spread all over the road. Combined, these substances created a stinky, lumpy minefield with each pile issuing a siren-call just for her feet. Her once pristine footwear was stained beyond repair. She sighed and scraped again. “I cannot believe you lied to me.”
“I didn’t—” Fiona’s words disappeared beneath the whoops and clattering hooves of a passing cavalcade.
A fresh waft of equine and man sweat assailed Candice, causing her to breathe through her mouth while her friend flared her nostrils and grinned.
When the noise had subsided to the general dull roar of the crowd, Fiona tried again. “I didn’t lie. I told you there’d be horses. You should’ve dressed appropriately.”
“You told me there’d be a few horses.” Candice swept an arm toward a large open area and the wide track surrounding it, both were surfaced with the sand-sawdust mix. A low wood rail fence separated the open area from the track—the ‘manga’ the locals called it, making Candice view the scene through the lens of Japanese anime—and a similar fence separated the track from the road. Both the manga and the central ring were packed with horses—led, ridden, and driven. The street the girls stood on thronged with people and, inevitably, more horses. “Since when does a cast of thousands count as a few?”
“It’s all in the perception. One person’s few is another person’s too many or not enough, just like one woman’s adequate is another woman’s too damn small or holy crap that’s huge. Besides, I had no idea it would be like this.” A broad grin split Fiona’s face. “Isn’t it fabulous?”
Candice stopped scraping and started walking, slippery sandals skidding on the damp, uneven sidewalk. She’d only been here a couple of hours and already she was beginning to hate the artistic Portuguese mosaic street pavement. If she escaped this week without a sprained ankle at the very least, it would be a miracle.
The squishiness between her toes made her shudder. “No. It is not fabulous,” she snapped over her shoulder. “It’s wet, it’s cold—you said Portugal was a warm country. It’s crowded—you said Golegã was a small town. It’s overrun with horses and cowboys, and horse shit and testicles. And this is different from Calgary, how? Ahhhhh!” Her arms wind-milled as the ground slid away under her feet. She caught a glimpse of gooey sandals against gray sky a second before her ass hit the road. “Crap!”
“That hurt.” Fiona squatted beside her, green eyes full of sympathy. “You okay?”
“Fine.” Candice sighed. “I always thought dignity was overrated anyway.” She examined her bleeding hand and slimed feet, and repeated her question. “And this is different from Calgary, how?”
Fiona shrugged. “But look at it this way, Cans. You needed to get away from your unpleasant boyfriend—”
“He’s not my boyfriend!”
“—your cougar mother and her cubs—”
“Two of them. Two!”
“—your gay father and his fiancé—”
Candice rolled her eyes. “Don’t need the litany, Fifs.”
Fiona rolled on relentlessly. “—your self-centered brothers—”
“As long as they’re happy.” Candice mimicked her brothers’ favorite words to her every time she complained about their parents’ split and new alternative lifestyles.
“—and the dead-end job you got fired from.”
“Behavior unbecoming of an employee.” Candice stretched her face and voice into a caricature of her haughty boss and surrounded her words with air quotes.
“And your grief.” Fiona ended her list in a softer tone and paused before revving up again. “Coming with me provided a much-needed change. Think of it as a catalyst to propel your life in a whole new direction. Carpe diem and all that.”
“The way I see it,” Candice growled, holding her sore and filthy hand to one side, “I was sitting in shit there, and I’m sitting in shit here.” She wiped the hand on her no-longer-white skirt. “The only difference is at home I spoke the language, and when I ordered a cup of coffee, I got a cup of coffee, not a thimbleful of black tar that would melt the hide off a rhino.”
“Don’t be like that.” Fiona hauled her to her feet and started dusting her down, paused, and wiped her hands on the clean sleeve of Candice’s blouse.
Fiona shrugged. “Sorry, didn’t want to get my clothes dirty, and this is wrecked already. Look, let’s go back to the hotel and get you cleaned up. Then we can go for dinner at that little café and ogle the eye candy while we eat.”
Candice cringed but followed in silence as Fiona wound through crowds of olive-skinned men in tight black pants, short black jackets, and flat-crowned black hats. As far as she could tell, they were the same as the cowboys back home, with possibly better fashion sense. But for all their tight sexy attire, they were still ruled by testosterone, thinking themselves as virile and macho as the stallions they rode.
Fiona seemed as much besotted by the men as by the horses she claimed to have come to see. But for Candice, fresh out of a brief and toxic interlude too short to even be termed a relationship, and unhappy with the whole cowboy scene she’d never even pretended to understand, this seven-day trip to Portugal’s National Horse Fair had rapidly assumed the guise of a nightmare.
Fiona was footing the bill, but only because she hated to do anything alone. She’d planned the trip with equally-horse-crazy-man-crazy-Sarah, and Candice had looked forward to a solitary seven days secure behind the locked door of their apartment, licking her wounds and reading through the contents of box Hist. 2 from Ted’s collection. But Sarah had backed out at the last minute, and Fiona had come begging.
Unable to leave her best friend in the lurch, Candice-the-mug-of-a-roommate and Candice-the-fired-without-a-reference and Candice-the-girl-with-the-most-fucked-up-family-in-the-world had smilingly agreed that a girl’s-only holiday in sunny Portugal would be just the thing. She’d closed the flaps on Hist. 2, packed Napoleon’s Wars: An International History into her travel bag and, ignoring her discomfort at having someone else pay for what she couldn’t afford, headed to the airport.
There would be a few horses in Golegã. Fiona had been up front about that. It was a horse fair after all. For her friend, Candice reckoned a few—a few—horses could be coped with. But holy hell, this was never a few, and if this god-forsaken town had seen sun in the last month, she’d be amazed to hear it.
Ahead of her, Fiona skirted a large pile of fresh droppings with a supple sway of her hips and barely a glance. Candice, envious of her friend’s grace, tried to do the same and promptly stepped on a turd ball. Her foot skidded, but a lucky grab at the nearby fence kept her upright. Muttering curses, she scraped her sandal on the lowest bar of the barrier and grimaced at the drab green stain on her ankle.
“You coming, Cans?” Fiona called through the crowd.
“In a minute.” After one final, pointless wipe, Candice moved to catch up.
A large gray horse overtook her, clopping through a puddle, splashing her legs with malodorous water droplets. A brown one passed in the opposite direction, splattering her with yet more wet filth. The gray sky singled her out for the heaviest of the drizzle. Candice sighed.
Fiona looked her up and down. “You’re a mess.”
Without a word, Candice stomped past her into the heaving sea of masculinity.
And then there were the men. Yes, the clothes were a definite plus, but the men inside the clothes? The muscles and other man bits were clearly in all the right places, but the hormones dripped right along with the sweat. So much sweat, human and equine, plastered all over them, wafting about them, worn like some super-macho membership badge. And the shit. So much shit; although, in fairness, she couldn’t blame the men for that directly.”
“Candice, watch—”
This time there was no fence to grab. “Ahh-ahhhhh! Ouch!” And the landing hurt.
“—out.” Fiona gazed down at her, clearly fighting to keep a straight face. “Again? Really?”
“Fuck off,” Candice snarled.
“Don’t you think you’re pushing credulity just a bit?” Fiona abandoned any attempt to control her expression. “And right outside the hotel? I thought you didn’t like drawing attention to yourself?”
“I may assist you, senhorita?” A deep, accented male voice blended with Fiona’s final words.
“Oh. Fuck. Right. Off,” Candice said, loud and clear.
Book 2, The Great Gaspar Sept 15.
Book 3, Loving North Sept 29
Book 4, Seeking Home coming in October.  Can’t wait!
Book 5, A Dama and Book 6 Keeper’s Wife coming in November
Book 7, The Lone Horseman and Book 8, Candice will be out in December. If Life happens, they’ll be out in early 2018.
Visit Francisco Cordoba on Facebook today then head over and grab a copy of his wonderful books.

Don’t forget to check out The Naked Reviewers for her review and add yours!

2 thoughts on “Romance Author Showcase- Francisco Cordoba. The First Chapter

  1. I like this book, a lot. Poor Candice, she just can’t catch a break. I love the writing style. It’s filled with great prose that sucks you right into the action. I could smell the horses. Fransisco is a hella good writer.


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